


Keep These Secrets In A Lie

by CanDanAndPhilNot (enbycalhoun)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Based on an Ed Sheeran Song, Best Friends, Drinking, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbycalhoun/pseuds/CanDanAndPhilNot
Summary: Dan and Phil are friends. But friends don't act the way they do.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	Keep These Secrets In A Lie

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Phandom Reverse Bang to compliment art by artlessdynamite. This is based off the song Friends by Ed Sheeran.Thank you to irlsero for being my beta <3

It really isn’t supposed to be this difficult. There’s a distinct difference in the way PJ’s eyes meet Dan’s, crinkling when he laughs at some offhanded joke Dan spits out, and the way Phil smirks, his eyebrows tilting up and eyes searching Dan’s. It’s almost too much for Dan to take in. The way Phil’s eyes not only look into his, but how they take in every other small little detail of Dan’s fringe or dimple is what makes its way under Dan’s skin, making him feel like he’s on cloud nine. Phil never looks at Dan the way he looks at their other friends. Maybe Dan has just always been too observant. Maybe he looks too much into how Phil’s hand always seems to linger on his waist when they maneuver through crowds or how Phil always asks how he's doing when Dan has had too much to drink. 

They’re friends. Best friends even. There’s not a Dan without a Phil and vice versa. The dynamic duo. 

If it weren’t for Phil, Dan one hundred percent believes he wouldn’t be alive today. When the world was closing in on him, everything seemed fruitless, a beacon in the night that was Phil Lester showed up on his doorstep. He can’t pinpoint the moment he realized how important Phil had become in his life. One day, Dan woke up and bits and pieces of Phil had been woven into his life, making a perfect cross stitch picture of what his life is now. He doesn’t think there was a point in his life when there weren’t mismatched socks haphazardly thrown around his flat, or when he drank two percent milk and not almond milk just because it’s easier to buy one kind of milk instead of two that would go bad before they could drink it all. 

It shouldn’t be this difficult to live with someone he loves this much. 

It shouldn’t be difficult when Phil finds him in the middle of the dance floor and slips his arms around his waist and presses up against him to ward off the creep that's been trying to dance with Dan for the past half an hour despite Dan saying no to him three separate times. It shouldn’t take Dan by surprise, because it happens more often than not when they go out. Especially when Dan’s done it for Phil more times than his alcohol muddled brain can count. 

It shouldn’t make Dan’s knees weak when to prove to the creep that Phil really is there with Dan, Phil tilts Dan’s head to the side to capture his lips in a kiss. The first time it happened, Dan saw stars behind his eyelids. Now the feel of Phil’s tongue sneaking it’s way into Dan’s mouth to dance with his own was as familiar as the night sky. Even still, a thrill shakes through Dan’s body at the kiss. 

It still shouldn’t surprise Dan when they stumble home in the wee hours of the morning, that Phil walks right past his own bedroom door and sheds his clothes before snuggling under Dan’s duvet. Dan really shouldn’t be surprised when in their drunken stupor, one goodnight peck turns into two, then three, then for the next hour their hands get tangled in each others hair and explore overexposed skin and they say goodnight after every touch of their lips even though it’s another hour before they separate. 

What makes it difficult though, is when they wake up, tangled limbs and morning breath, Phil leans over and says, “Good morning,” in his husky, sleepy voice and kisses Dan square on the mouth. Then, everything goes back to normal.

Normal nights in their own beds. Normals goodnights with no lingering lips and grabby hands. 

It shouldn’t be so difficult to love Phil. 

  
  
  


****

  
  


Phil hasn’t ever felt this way with anyone else. Dan is his friend. His friend that somehow ends up in his bed on the nights Dan’s thoughts keep him up. His friend who leans into his touch with ease, like Dan knows what runs through Phil’s mind when their skin meets, sparking something deep within himself. 

Maybe that’s why it hurts so much when Dan says, “You should sleep in your own bed tonight.” 

Phil is five or six strong drinks in when their Uber drops them off in front of their flat. Dan’s hand didn’t leave Phil’s during the entire ceremony. Perhaps holding Dan’s hand while they watched two of their closest friends publicly declare their undying love under an arch of beautifully arranged flower that Phil wishes he knew the names of, is what made Phil’s heart swell.

Of course they were each other’s dates. They always attended events together. It just made sense when neither of them were actively dating. Maybe Phil was being presumptuous when he went straight to Dan’s room and started loosening his tie. 

He stands in the middle of Dan’s room, hand frozen over his neckwear. 

“What do you mean?”

Dan looks nervous. His hands fumble with his cufflinks and he worries at his bottom lip all while avoiding Phil’s eyes. 

“I just think maybe you should sleep in your own bed,” Dan says quietly, not moving from where he stands in the doorway. 

“Oh,” Phil breathes. 

“Cause that’s what friends do. They sleep in their own beds, Phil.” 

He knows this. He knows friends don’t share beds and late night kisses. Friends don’t tell each other how soft their skin is and how good they taste between opened mouth kisses. Friends don’t do any of that.

But that’s when it hit Phil like a ton of bricks. In retrospect, he knows it was obvious from the first time they met. No one ever grabbed Phil’s attention like Dan did. There is something about Dan’s being that just demands Phil’s attention. He was, and is, powerless to Dan and the entirety of his being. 

“I don’t think we’re friends,” Phil says, blinking his eyes a few times and lifting his chin. 

“Don’t.” 

“Friends don’t do what we do-”

“Phil,” Dan snaps, sharp and definite. He lifts his head to meet Phil’s eyes. 

There’s a streamline of energy that flows between the open space that separates them. 

“Dan.” 

“Don’t do this.” There’s a pleading edge to Dan’s voice, one that Phil is unsure about where it stems from. 

“Do what?” Phil all but whispers, dropping his hands from his half-undone tie. 

Dan holds a hand up. His cheeks turn a shade a pink Phil has become familiar with over the years. “Don’t try to change this...whatever this is.” His voice cracks on the last word, his pointed finger goes between the two men. “We’re just friends.” 

“What if I don’t want to be just friends?” Phil says in a bout of courage. Once the words are out of his mouth, Phil realises just how true the words are. 

Dan’s eyes flicker away towards the floor and the shade of pink coloring his cheeks deepens. “You’re just saying that…” 

A surprising flare of anger ignites in Phil’s gut. “You think I would say that just to get in your bed.” 

Shaking his head, Dan bites at the corner of his mouth. 

“Talk to me, please,” Phil pleads. 

“I can’t lose my best friend!” Dan shouts. 

Stunned into silence, Phil takes a step back. 

“If we- if we tried to make this more...I could lose you,” Dan continues with watery eyes. “I don’t think you realize how much I need you in my life.” 

“Then I’ll let you come to me,” Phil says, resigned. “I’ll go to my own bed.” 

After a few seconds of searching Phil’s face, Dan steps away from the door and looks down at his dress shoes that are half heartedly untied. 

Phil stops at the doorway and traces his hand over the chipped white paint of the threshold. 

“I can’t imagine my life without you,” Phil says to the flecks of paint. He sighs around the tightness in his chest. “I’d rather be your friend than nothing at all. But...I’d rather you let me love you properly. We’ve never been just friends, Dan.” 

It takes another deep breath for Phil to move his feet forward. 

“Phil...” Dan whimpers as he grabs onto the sleeve of Phil’s jacket. “You can’t just say dramatic things like that and walk away!” 

If there’s anything Phil is good at, it’s laughing at inappropriate times. So that’s what he does. He lets out a chuckle at Dan’s childness. “You’re the one being dramatic here!” 

Dan’s suppressing a smile of his own as he searches Phil’s face. “Don’t make me regret this, please?”

“Have I ever let you down before?” Phil asks, turning his body back towards Dan. 

“Did you leave your contact case on the tap again?”

Phil purses his lips and thinks back to twelve hours ago. A smile creeps on his face, knowing full well his contact case is on the tap as they speak. 

“Bloody menace,” Dan mumbles before grabbing onto the lapels of Phil’s jacket to pull their bodies flush and press their lips together in a way they’re both familiar with, but now with an urgency that’s usually lacking. 

“I promise,” Phil says between kisses, “you won’t regret this.” 

Dan groans, moving down to place practiced kisses on Phil’s neck and starts pushing both their jackets off. “Shut up and help me.” 

This time, it’s not difficult. What was once familiar has an undertone of a new and exciting rush with every brush of their skin. It’s anything but difficult when they whisper quiet ‘I love you’s’ between hitching breaths and strangled moans. 

Even when morning comes, it’s not difficult for Dan to spill his insecurities Phil, over the years, has picked up on. It’s even easier for Phil to give reassurance and tell Dan truths. 

Even if it’s not always easy, it’s never as difficult as it once was. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
